


It Had to Be You

by ojisandavid



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: It's a wonderful town, Multi, New York New York, The Bronx is up and the Battery's down, mystery ship, read to the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24582478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ojisandavid/pseuds/ojisandavid
Summary: “Oh, it’s one of my favorites!” said Kathryn. She stood and took the hand of her dinner companion. “Let’s dance.”Amid the tumult ofVoyager'sreturn to Earth, Janeway and a friend steal away for an evening together, high above the streets of Manhattan.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Someone :)
Kudos: 2





	It Had to Be You

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this years ago in the now-defunct Ad Astra fanfic forums in response to a prompt: write a very short Trek fic based on the old Cole Porter song, "It Had to Be You."
> 
> It's set in 2378, shortly after the events in the _Star Trek: Voyager_ series finale, "[Endgame](http://memory-alpha.org/wiki/Endgame_\(episode\))."
> 
> I wrote it because I liked the prompt, because I could have Janeway voice my utter pissed-offedness at the writing in the last _Voyager_ episodes, because I love the idea of New York's Fleet Week with starships, and because I wanted to have fun with a Janeway mystery ship. Who? You'll just have to read to the end.

_“It had to be you...”_

“Oh, it’s one of my favorites!” said Kathryn. She stood and took the hand of her dinner companion. “Let’s dance.”

“If you insist!” There was a laugh as she forcefully led the way to the dance floor.

The two of them had been greeted with cheers and applause when they arrived in the room. Bottles of champagne appeared at their table. Their exquisite meal was on the house. The maitre d’ requested autographs, not for himself, you understand, but for his little girl, she’d be so thrilled. Now the other dancers just smiled or politely ignored them. New Yorkers kept their cool, after all, even around heroes.

_“...I've wandered around, finally found somebody who / Could make me be true...”_

At their feet, a glossy parquet floor revolved. Above them, chandeliers sparkled. All around them, the lights of the city glittered like a carpet made of diamonds. More than four hundred years after a man named Rockefeller built it high atop his edifice, the Rainbow Room was still the place for a perfect evening.

Kathryn looked up at her dance partner. “It’s all been such a blur,” she said. “I’m still having trouble sorting out all the events around our return. Disjointed memories, utter confusion, strange changes in relationships ... as if the whole thing were a badly written play with no real ending.”

“Perhaps we must write our own ending.”

“Yes.” Kathryn gestured at the cityscape below. “Here in the ‘gleaming cities of Earth,’ as B’Elanna’s playwright friend once wrote.”

The Cardassian chanteuse onstage, beautiful in a black velvet gown, gave the ancient lyrics a wistful reading. What lover was she thinking about, and under which stars did they last dance? 

_“...could make me be blue / And even be glad just to be sad, thinking of you...”_

As Kathryn spun, she caught glimpses of moving lights on the Hudson. She’d seen them earlier in daylight: yachts, excursion boats, ferries, seagoing liners. In the skies above the dark water, brilliantly lit, were ships that plied other oceans. 

It was Fleet Week. Starships from worlds and empires across the quadrant crowded the Hudson River airspace from Spuytin Duyvil to Battery Park. Their lights spilled new stars across the night. They competed to paint the sky with phaser bursts and antimatter light displays.

Sixty-five floors below the dancers, the streets were full of crews on shore leave, tourists, locals, all taking pictures of each other, laughing, dancing, making new friends, meeting new lovers.

_“... Some others I've seen / Might never be mean / Might never be cross / Or try to be boss / But they wouldn't do...”_

Far downtown, at Battery Park, she saw many-hued floodlights dancing across a sleek ship that was the centerpiece of this year’s celebrations. _Voyager._

Her name, her crew, her odyssey dominated news feeds, social chatter, hastily produced holonovels, even children’s games. Today had been a whirlwind of tickertape parades -- _What the hell is a tickertape anyway?,_ she thought -- shaking hands, talking to reporters. After weeks of this, Kathryn’s Starfleet handler was getting better at reading her. He politely but firmly showed the last reporter to the door just before she turned to ice.

_“...’Cause nobody else gave me a thrill / With all your faults, I love you still...”_

Then the handler had pulled strings for reservations here. Now Kathryn slow-danced around the floor in the arms of someone she’d grown to respect, and then to love. She had crossed the galaxy, defied enemies, mourned friends, all for this one perfect moment.

“And it had to be you,” said Kathryn. Even in heels, she had to stand on tiptoe to give a kiss to Seven ... to Annika. “It _had_ to be you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here's Billie Holiday's delicious rendering of [the song](https://youtu.be/NFaj8Wse1PI), and take a look around the fabulous [Rainbow Room](https://youtu.be/J2ISksOqeXI) while you're at it.


End file.
